Nice Ideas
by El Conejo Morado
Summary: Romero, DJ, and Hitoshi go out to a nice club based on a nice idea. Nothing can go wrong. Not with three grown men on the job, nope!
1. Romero

A/N: And...um...something.

Disclaimer: No own! ;

Summary: Sooo, one night Romero takes our favorite Ninja and Bey-announcer for a nice drink at a nice bar for, well, a nice night. Seriously; three mature adult men? What could POSSIBLY go wrong?

Warnings: Uhh...lemmee get back to you that one.

"Nice Ideas"

Third Person POV

The day Takao Kinomiya was named World Champion for the fourth year in a row was the day that Romero woke up with an idea.

Now, being the former trainer for Julia and Raul, a former circus performer, and a former barista, Romero was not one to wake up with ideas in his head. It simply didn't happen like that. Usually, when he needed or wanted an idea, Romero would simply sit upside down hanging off a couch, mulling over the situation that needed the idea.

But that day, Romero woke up with an idea. Perhaps it had been in a dream. But there it was.

That night he would go to a nice club with some nice friends, dressed in nice leather showing off nice skin for some nice drinks and perhaps some nice dancing. It was a nice idea. He liked it.

However, (Romero later discovered as he watched DJ hold Takao's arm up amongst screaming Beyblade fans) there were a few problems with his plan. Perhaps those came from his not actually thinking of it, but simply waking up to it; either way, there were a few itsy-bitsy problems.

Firstly, Romero did not know of any clubs nice enough for him in Tokyo. Secondly, Romero did not possess any vehicle with which to arrive at mentioned club. And, lastly, Romero had to finally come to shocking terms with the fact that he... well... had no friends.

An utterly mortifying revelation, to be sure.

How this was possible, not even Romero knew; he was in his late thirties (...well, okay. Early forties. But really, was there ever a difference?), blond, rather good looking, a talented Bey-trainer, intelligent, single... and yet he had nobody to share his good idea with.

And so, he began to mull. He mulled over it while Daitenji handed the trophy to Takao; he mulled as Takao was smothered by friends and fans; he mulled as Takao signed autographs; he mulled as the Bey stadium began to empty out, and he mulled his way all the way back to the locker rooms and finally outside the back of the stadium. He mulled for quite a while, in fact, before the solution came to him dressed in khakis and a black dress shirt. The solution was accompanied by yet another solution; this one dressed in a dark bandana and sunglasses.

And said solutions were accompanied by the fourth-time World Champion and several others. Most likely friends and family.

Ahh, yes. Hitoshi and DJ were perfect. They would go nice in a nice club. They would go nice in nice leather showing off nice skin. They would go nice with nice drinks. They would even go nice with nice dancing!

But more importantly, they were in their mid and late twenties, and friendless. Surely. Not too far off from Romero, a logical person would conclude.

And so it was, that on the day Takao Kinomiya was named fourth-time World Beyblading Champion, Romero woke up with an idea. And that idea would have to soon be put into motion.


	2. Hitoshi

A/N: BLAH! (cough) ..ahehem... thanks, Gogandantes! I have no idea who you are, but you reviewed, so thanks! X3 I award you my famous Review Cookie! You can never eat it all, even with three Tysons on the job!

This chappie and the next chappie will be short, and so will two more afterwards (I'm thinking about combining those last two into a moderately long chapter). THEN we get out of this Prologue-thinger, and the real fun begins! Woo:3

Nice Ideas, Chapter Two

Third Person POV

&

The day Takao Kinomiya was named World Champion for the fourth year in a row, Hitoshi woke up in a bad mood.

Now, being a Kinomiya, his first instinct upon waking was to scream insults at his alarm clock, smash a few things with a kendo stick, roll over and go back to sleep. But Hitoshi resisted these family urges; and instead got ready for the day like usual.

He watched three battles, the final battle, and Takao's win from the sidelines, yawning, bored. Grouchy. Unhappy. But being an actor, Hitoshi did very well hiding it--except his clothing choice, of course. He decided on a black dress shirt instead of his usual white or yellow one. To reflect his nasty mood, and all, since he couldn't act his mood out.

Ahem. Getting back to the tournament--it went well. Kai hadn't been participating (he was home sick), Max had just arrived from America and spent the first part of the day sleeping off jet lag, arriving too late for his battle, and Rei had lost in the first round to--you guessed it--Takao. The final win was an easy one, and if anything, the crowd pouring down from the stadium was the most interesting part.

Afterwards, Daitenji called Takao, Hitoshi, the DJ whatever-his-real-name-was, Rei, Max, Kyouju, and a few others to an important meeting that actually turned out to be a celebration of sorts. Sadly, Daitenji announced that he would be resigning from the Chair this year.

That was actually kind of interesting, too, but it certainly didn't improve Hitoshi's mood. He disliked having to go through seven hundred people just to contact the chairman already--somebody new would only be worse. He considered resigning from everything related to Beyblade, too, but held back. Afterwards, a group from the party decided to walk home together, although not unanimously.

Takao and his three friends were discussing Kai's situation, Max yawning every now and then.

Daitenji spoke with two administrators about the new Chairman.

DJ said nothing and did nothing. Neither did Hitoshi, which was why he chose to walk closest to DJ.

The whole lot of them rounded the gym and started towards the parking lot. Hitoshi was vaguely aware of passing that one former trainer for F-Sangure, but paid the elder no mind and continued walking on down the sidewalk. DJ followed him slightly.

And so did, apparently, Romero.

The three were just a few paces from the main group when Romero must have decided enough silence was enough, because he stopped both Hitoshi and DJ, and, as the oldest beamed down at the two youngest, the Spirit of Bad Luck caught Hitoshi so tightly in its claws that he went temporarily stupid. Gasp.

But that comes later.


End file.
